The Comedy of the Three Dreamers
It's an old text, and clearly roughly translated from whatever ancient language it was originally from. Rough copies of illustrations from the original show grisly images of slaughter and bloodshed. Three figures dominate the work, a veiled woman with a long and delicate scarf, a handsome youth with a shining blade, and a gaunt figure clad in a long coat and hat that obscures its features. The Text Have you heard the tale, my child, about the Lover, the Hunter and the Thief. Lightning broke the sky, the gods lance marking a rot black night. The rose quickly, mischief minded, the Thief, The Lover and the Hunter. The sleeper shook in slumber, battle-minded, a slave to the realm of dream. Out of nostril and ear they sneaked, the Hunter, the Thief and the Lover. Day had just ended, and the night still young, so starts the Comedy. Now some might squirm at the words I speak, but still it remains Comedy. First most humorously, the merchants greatest treasure taken by the Thief. Second, laughter raising, the young of the city followed the song of the Lover. But senses fail when sun falls, and promises of delight were spoiled by Night. Mind stolen, the merchants sweet child and wild youths danced in Dream. But foolish youths were split asunder, for ecstasy hid the work of the Hunter. Work done, the next joke was to be decided, and so it was found by Hunter. The lost man moaned in fear, who better to be shown the power of Comedy. They came upon him, but disguised they were, hidden in the man's Dream. Stolen from him was memory and face, work only possible by the Thief. Dragged home, the madman ran towards home, obscured by Night. Arrows brought him down, guards warned of attack from who else but the Lover. Prank tire us mortals, but the comedy would continue at behest of the Lover. Something simpler perhaps, a quick joke, a swift gag, urged the Hunter. Day was still far away, and soothed by darkness, the plot grew under Night. People think tragedy hard, how wrong they are, to compare it to Comedy. The three give much, but ask for little, so proclaimed the Thief? But moved by love, they coupled, and thus a child was born, named Dream. To enact their greatest ploy, help was needed, their child born of Dream. It learned quick, their child, taught the words of romance by the Lover. The ways to slip between cracks and holes was gifted by the Thief To stalk their prey, to hunt and skin, inheritance of the Hunter. So garbed in knowledge, the Three lead their child to its greatest Comedy. Into gardens soft it slid, into place noble, this dreamchild, under shelter of Night. The family slept, but so did its guards, senses were nothing, nothing to Night. And so did their child perform, an actor their child, their hope, their Dream. A play was done for the sleeping audience, and finally they knew Comedy. But none can act by oneself, and so the scene was set by the Lover. Those who wished to leave early, disrespectfully, were returned by the Hunter. And of course while occupied, their valuables useless to them, worked the Thief. Finally, the audience stirred, finally awake, and greeting them was the Lover. But where are we? They asked. The afterlife my pets, answered the Hunter. And so was gifted to us Comedy, stealing us down to hell, stolen by the Thief.